You did not Desert Me
by fandomlver
Summary: Jesse doesn't talk about his past...because he doesn't have one. Not as Jesse Travis, anyway. Mentioned accidental deaths.


It's another 'actor plays in two shows' fic. Charlie Schlatter played both Jesse Travis and Kevin Greely.

In Touched by an Angel, angels Monica and Andrew along with others helped people in difficult circumstances. Kevin's encounters with them are described in the fic.

In Diagnosis Murder, Jesse helped mentor Dr Mark Sloan, Mark's son Lieutenant Steve Sloan and colleague Amanda Bentley solve crimes. In my head this fic takes place shortly before _A Town Without Pity_ for reasons that will hopefully become clear when you read.

Titles comes from the song _Brothers in Arms._ Enjoy.

You did not Desert Me

Jesse had his face buried in a file as he entered Trauma One. "Hello. I'm Dr Travis. I hear you had a run in with an angry tree."

"Hello."

He hesitated for a moment before lowering the file and turning to the nurse who'd accompanied him in. "I can handle this. Why don't you take a break? You've been going for a while now."

"Are you sure?"

"She's conscious and not in pain, it's obviously not that bad. Go on. I'll call if I need help. About time I practised my stitching, anyway."

"All right," she finally agreed, leaving them alone.

Jesse dropped the file on the bed, folding his arms. "Do I actually need to look at that? Do you get hurt?"

"No." Monica tilted her head and the blood smeared across her face vanished.

"What are you doing here, Monica?" Glancing past her, he added, "Andrew."

"Hi, Kevin."

"Jesse. My name is Jesse Travis."

"No, it's not," Monica said quietly.

"Kevin Greeley died in Joseph Wells, with Nathan and Hannah," he insisted. "My name is Jesse. What do you _want_, Monica?"

"You're lost, Kevin. We've come to help you home."

She took a step forward, but he dodged back. "No. Listen to me. Kevin died in Joseph Wells. Jesse Travis is a good man. I save lives, Monica."

"God has work for you."

"I'm doing His work. I'm ministering to His sick." Appealing to Andrew, he added, "Isn't that in the Bible? Whatsoever you do unto the least of my brothers here?"

"It is," Andrew agreed quietly.

"I have friends here. People I love. Do you know how hard that was for me?" He started to turn away and then looked back sharply. "Andrew, were you there?"

"Was I...?"

"In Joseph Wells that day."

Andrew glanced at Monica, who bit her lip and shrugged. "I..."

"Please," Jesse whispered.

Andrew nodded. "Yes. I held Nathan's hand and walked with him, with Hannah. There was no pain and no fear. They walked to the light, to the Father, and they are safe."

Jesse nodded, closing his eyes and gripping the edge of the table. "Thank you," he murmured.

"There is work for you."

"I have work here," he murmured. "Andrew, I'm not – I haven't turned away. You must know that. I'm still praying, I never stopped and I don't plan to. But I can't be there. It was killing me."

"But Jesse? Where did that come from?"

He shrugged. "Kevin had already been reborn once. I figured he'd run out of chances. Kevin Greeley died in Joseph Wells. I need you to understand that."

There was a knock at the door and Mark called "Dr Travis?"

"One second, Dr Sloan!" Glancing at Monica, he hissed, "Either bring the blood back or make the place look used."

Monica blinked, looking at the table, now littered with bandages and used instruments. A neat bandage covered her forehead. Jesse breathed a soft 'thank you' before crossing to the door. "Is something wrong?" he asked Mark.

"I thought you were finished."

"Just finishing up now." Mark glanced over his shoulder into the room and Jesse followed the look. "Head wound. Looked a lot worse than it was. No sign of concussion; I'm going to get the staff to watch her for an hour or so and if she's still all right they can release her."

"I can leave now," Monica protested.

"Sorry." Jesse smiled tightly. "Hospital rules. You came in to be treated for a head wound, we're going to treat you for a head wound."

Mark frowned and Jesse turned away abruptly, scribbling on the chart. Nodding briefly at Monica and rather more gratefully at Andrew, he slipped past Mark out to the desk.

"What was that?" Mark asked, following him.

"Someone I used to know." Jesse didn't look up from the chart.

"Who's Kevin Greeley?"

"Were you listening, Mark?" He still wasn't looking up, though he wasn't writing anything.

"The whole room was listening, you weren't exactly being subtle."

Jesse grimaced, finally lowering the file. "Kevin's someone I used to know, too. But he died a few years ago."

"I'm sorry," Mark murmured.

Jesse shrugged, turning away to give the file to a nurse. "Hour's obs, please, and then she can leave." Looking back at Mark, he said quietly, "Kevin's son and his son's mother died a little while before he did. I don't think he minded much."

Before Mark could answer, Jesse turned on his heel and walked off.

Mark frowned, chewing on his lip for a moment before crossing to Trauma One.

"Andrew, I don't need to stay," the woman was protesting.

"Well, you heard Jesse..."

"Kevin..."

"...It's hospital policy."

"Yes, but I'm fine!"

Mark tapped on the door, letting himself in. "Hello. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you must have quite a headache." Absently he started tidying the instruments; it wasn't like Jesse to leave without clearing them or making sure someone else would.

The woman blinked. "I...yes, a headache. Ow."

"I'm Mark Sloan, I'm Dr Travis' superior. Did he offer you painkillers?"

"Oh, it's nothing. It'll be fine, honestly. I'm Monica."

"Andrew," the man added.

Mark nodded and then paused, studying him. "Have we met?"

"It's possible. I get around a lot."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I...collections, and deliveries. You know."

"Ah." Mark dropped the last of the instruments into the steriliser. "If you don't mind my asking – Dr Travis was rather upset when he left here."

Monica and Andrew exchanged looks. "I'm sure he won't let it affect his work," Monica offered.

"I'm not worried about that; I've seen him work under worse conditions. I'm worried about him. Now I know he was fine before he came in here."

Another look, and this time it was Andrew who answered. "I don't think he liked us bringing up Joseph Wells."

"Jos...I thought the name was Kevin?"

"Kevin is the man who lived there. Joseph Wells is the name of the town."

"And what happened there?"

"Kevin's son and his son's mother died in a car accident. Kevin should have been with them but he'd been delayed at work. He waited long enough to bury them before he – left."

"Poor man," Mark murmured. "And Jesse?"

"Jesse's part is for him to tell you. If he wants." He turned sharply to Monica, though she hadn't moved or spoken. "It's not our remit."

Mark filed the odd word choice away. "I'll accept that you didn't mean to upset him. But you clearly have. Jesse's gone home and once her hour is up, I'll ask you to do the same. I hope not to see you here again."

"I understand," Andrew agreed. Mark nodded and headed out, already reaching for his phone.

"Steve? I need you to do some digging for me. Quietly. A man named Kevin Greeley." He glanced back at Trauma One. "And a town called Joseph Wells."

* * *

><p>Steve found Mark in the doctor's lounge with Amanda the next day. "Spill, dad," he ordered, closing the door and dropping into the nearest chair. "What do you know?"<p>

"Not whatever's got you so excited, anyway. What did you find out?"

"What's this?" Amanda asked.

Mark briefly summarised what he'd seen and heard the day before. "They signed out after her hour and I have no idea where they went. But they really rattled Jesse. What did you find, Steve?"

Steve pulled a picture from the file in his hand, passing it to Mark. "That, for one."

"But this is Jesse." Mark passed the picture on to Amanda.

"No. That's Kevin Greeley the day his son's adoption was finalised."

"Adoption," Amanda echoed. "Steve, it's Jesse."

"It's not, Amanda. I can give you any amount of pictures of Kevin Greeley."

"Tell us about him," Mark said, taking the picture back. Jesse – Kevin, he reminded himself – was talking to a young boy; a handmade crown perched lopsidedly on his head and he looked completely, blissfully happy.

"Kevin was a party boy. Son of a millionaire. Kevin was very smart but lazy and lived on his father's money until the father died. Most of his money was left to Joseph Wells to rebuild the town orphanage. Kevin left the family home two days after his father's death and hitch hiked to Joseph Wells, where he underwent a complete personality change. Worked at the orphanage and fostered a boy, Nathan. Nathan's mother turned up seven years later to contest the adoption; Kevin invited her to move in so they could all live together."

Amanda frowned, accepting the sheets Steve passed her. "So what happened? They said Kevin died, right?"

"There was an accident."

All three slewed around to see Jesse in the doorway. "Jesse." Amanda rose on instinct; Jesse looked terrible, deep circles beneath his eyes and white as a sheet. "Are you all right?"

"Kevin missed Nathan's ball game," Jesse continued as though he hadn't heard her. "First one he'd missed all season. But he was going to meet them when they got home."

"Jesse." Mark stood, taking his arm and urging him in. "Please sit."

"Another car hit them. Wasn't his fault, he swerved to avoid – I don't remember. An animal, or a child, or something. He's still in physio. Nathan and Hannah – DOA."

"Jesse," Amanda murmured, resting her hand on his arm.

"I _didn't know them_. Kevin knew them. Kevin died just after they did." He looked up, catching Mark's eye. "He was smart, Kevin. But he ran with a bad crowd, once."

"The kind of bad crowd who can create a new life?"

"It wasn't that hard. Goodbye, Kevin and Joseph Wells. Hello, Jesse Travis." Catching the look on Mark's face, he added quickly, "My qualifications are real, Mark. I told you, Kevin was smart. I never lied about that. You know I wouldn't put a patient at risk."

"I know that," Mark agreed neutrally. "Who are Monica and Andrew?"

"Kevin met them when his father died. Monica showed him how to get to Joseph Wells."

"You mean you met them," Steve said.

Jesse shook his head. "Kevin."

"Jesse..."

"Yes. Jesse Travis. Kevin met Andrew and Monica, Kevin lived in Joseph Wells, Kevin had a family there and Kevin died there. Jesse has a life here. Kevin's dead." He made to stand; Mark caught his shoulders, holding him in place. "I have rounds, Mark."

"Not today. Sorry."

"Mark...!"

"You haven't slept and you're upset. I'm off shift now; come back to the beach house with me."

"No." Jesse shrugged his hands off, standing. "If you don't trust me to work, I'll go home."

"Jesse," Amanda protested.

"Bye, Amanda." He stomped out.

* * *

><p>When Jesse didn't come in the next day Mark went to his apartment. He almost wasn't surprised when Andrew opened the door, stepping aside to let him in. Monica was sitting on the couch, half turned to look at him; she didn't speak, just nodded quietly.<p>

Jesse was clattering around in the kitchen, apparently doing his best to ignore his guests. Mark joined him, watching as Andrew leaned against the wall to watch them.

"Jesse," he murmured. "Want me to get Steve?"

Jesse glanced up, eyes flickering from Monica to Andrew and back to Mark. "Wouldn't help."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Mark turned to eye them. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to talk to Kevin," Monica said.

"They keep doing that," Jesse told Mark. "They won't listen to me."

"We're hearing you," Andrew assured him.

"You're obviously not, Andrew. Kevin's gone. And I'm not going to Joseph Wells. Go away. Find someone who needs your help."

"We have someone who needs our help right here."

Mark turned, stepping between them to break Jesse's glare. "Who are they, Jesse?"

"They're Kevin's angels. Monica and Andrew and their friends helped him find his way to Joseph Wells, and to Nathan. And they helped him again when Nathan's mother turned up." Looking over Mark's shoulder, he added, "But I don't need them, and I don't want them."

"Angels, huh." Mark turned to follow his look. "From Joseph Wells."

"From Heaven," Monica corrected him. "We were in Joseph Wells that day."

"Go back there," Jesse said, turning away again.

Mark grimaced, crossing to join Andrew. "Why are you here, Andrew?"

Andrew glanced past him, presumably checking with Monica, before looking back at him. "We came to try and help Jesse."

"Kevin," Monica corrected him. Andrew shrugged without answering.

"He doesn't seem to want your help."

"He might not want it, but he needs it. Nathan died four years ago and Jesse has never grieved. He's convinced himself that it didn't happen to him, that Kevin was someone else. Grief like that, unexpressed – it'll tear him apart eventually. Sometime, something will trigger it."

"And four years on, it's occurred to you to come and do something about it?"

Andrew glanced at Monica again; something in his expression set Mark on edge. "We couldn't come before. It's complicated," he added, cutting Mark off. "For a long time we didn't know where he was. And when we did...well, we couldn't come for a bit."

"I see." Mark considered him for a minute before turning away again. Jesse was clattering even more frantically in the kitchen, and he wondered vaguely why he hadn't just retreated to his bedroom.

He leaned on the counter for a minute to watch. Jesse slammed the pans around for a few minutes before seeming to admit defeat and looking up. "I can't."

"Can't..."

"Talk to them. Can you get them to leave? Please?"

"Will you talk to me?"

Jesse's gaze flicked to Andrew, just visible from where he was crouched on the floor. "I'm...Mark, I can't."

"You'll have to try," Mark said gently. "You know I can't leave it here."

"You'll have to. Mark, I'm begging you. Don't make me go back there. I can't do it."

"You can, you know," Monica said, joining Mark in leaning over the counter. "You'll need help. But you can do it."

"No glow?" Jesse said nonsensically.

"Tell me about Nathan, Jesse," Mark said quietly. "What did he like?"

"Baseball." Jesse blinked as though surprised at his own words.

"Baseball," Mark repeated. "Was he good?"

"No." Jesse half-laughed, half-sobbed. "He wasn't. He could catch, but he couldn't run. But he loved playing. God, he loved playing."

"And you watched."

"Kevin," Jesse said half-heartedly.

"Maybe." Mark rounded the corner, touching Jesse's arm to urge him to his feet. Jesse followed him to the couch, rubbing at his eyes. "One of you, anyway, watched his games."

"Every game. From the first time he played, I saw every game. Until – until I didn't."

"Until what, Jesse?" Mark said insistently. "What happened?"

"Mark, please..."

"Until what?"

"Until he died," Jesse breathed. "Oh God, Mark, he died. My son died. I wasn't there and he died, him and Hannah. I wasn't there."

Mark tugged him into a hug, shushing him gently. Jesse wept, great, soul-wrecking sobs, and Mark held him and waited it out. Andrew had joined Monica at the counter and they were talking softly, doing their best not to pay any attention to them.

Sobs trailed off into sniffs and Jesse stopped trembling. Mark glanced up when Andrew touched his shoulder, taking the proffered glass of water with a nod of thanks. "Jess, can you sit up?" he murmured.

Andrew retreated again and Jesse sat up, scrubbing at his eyes. "I messed up your shirt," he said vaguely.

"I'm a doctor, I've had worse things on my shirt. Here." He offered the glass of water. Jesse took it with a nod, sipping carefully. "Are you all right?"

"No." He looked past Mark, focusing on Andrew. "Is that it?"

"I dunno." Andrew hunkered in front of them, watching him carefully. "Do you feel better?"

"No."

He nodded as though he hadn't expected anything else. "Do you feel lighter?"

"...maybe," Jesse muttered reluctantly. "You never wanted me to go back to Joseph Wells, did you."

"There's work there. But you're right, there's work here, good work that you're doing well."

"I stop killers, you know." There was no pride in the voice, only an aching emptiness. "Murderers and abusers. I save lives."

"You do," Andrew agreed. "We know you do."

"Kev – I didn't save anyone there."

"You saved children," Monica said. She didn't come any closer, though, apparently recognising that he was responding better to Andrew than to her. "Not just Nathan, but all the children of Joseph Wells. Just as your father hoped when he left that will."

"I save children here. You can't guilt me into going back."

"This isn't about guilt," Andrew assured him.

"The orphanage is fine. I make sure of that. I have work and a life here. I _live_ here. And I'm not giving it up."

Andrew nodded. "Do you want us to stay?"

"I'm all right. Thank you."

"You're not alone. Remember that."

"I will. Say hi to Tess for me. And – whosit – Gloria, and the others."

Andrew smiled. "I will. Bye, Jesse."

"Bye, Jesse," Monica echoed, following Andrew towards the door.

"She called me Jesse," he noted, smiling faintly and draining the glass. Mark took it from him, crossing to refill it.

"Who's Tess?"

"Their – supervisor, I guess."

"Another angel."

"Yeah." Jesse blinked. "They didn't – yeah. Another angel." Mark passed him the glass again and he studied it.

"Tell me about Hannah," Mark suggested.

It startled a laugh out of Jesse. "What?"

"Well, Nathan, that's a little close. But Hannah, you only ever described her as your son's mother. Did you love her?"

"I wasn't in love with her. And it took a while; I thought she was trying to take Nathan away from me – but yeah. I loved her."

"Tell me," Mark urged.

"Pancakes. Hannah loved pancakes. Nathan didn't like mine, but she made those huge ones – cheese and ham, or fruit, whole meal in one pancake, and he loved those. Sunday breakfast, every week. She volunteered in care homes. Home for Alzheimer's when I met her. The Children of Joseph Wells after that."

He kept talking; Mark sat and listened, making sure he kept drinking until he waved the glass away. The subject veered from Hannah to Nathan, from Joseph Wells to Kevin's father and off on completely unrelated tangents and Mark kept listening until Jesse finally ran out of words, stumbling to a halt.

Mark let him sit in silence for a few minutes, refilling the glass again. Jesse took it from him but didn't make any move to drink it, staring at it in silence.

"Jesse?" Mark asked eventually.

Jesse startled. "Yeah. Sorry, Mark, I was drifting."

"Don't blame you. How are you feeling?"

"Drained." He put the glass down with exaggerated care. "I might just go to sleep here."

"Your back won't thank you."

"I'll risk it."

"I won't. Come on. Get up."

Jesse sighed, taking the hand Mark offered him. "That doctor thing you do, it's annoying. You should look into turning it off."

"I'll get straight on that. Careful..."

Jesse paused at his bedroom door, glancing back at Mark. "You – Mark, can you stay? Not all night, I don't mean – but just for a bit?"

"Sure, Jess," Mark agreed. "I'll call Steve and tell him. I'll be out here, ok? You yell if you need anything."

"I will. Thank you." Jesse opened his bedroom door, sighed softly, and slipped in, closing it behind himself.

Andrew spread his hands apologetically. "Sorry. He won't see me even if he comes in, though."

"He thinks I'm insane now," Jesse said softly.

"No, he thinks you're grieving."

"There some reason you didn't reveal?"

"We weren't here for him. And you know what we are."

Jesse scoffed, yanking off his sweatshirt. "Monica was cruel."

"I'm sorry," Andrew said quietly. "But it had to be done. You had to face it or you would have self-destructed. You know that. And if they didn't know what to look for, your friends, your new family, they wouldn't have been able to help you."

"So ends justify the means? I didn't think that was the way you usually worked."

Andrew smiled. "God moves..."

"I will kick you if you finish that sentence," Jesse warned him, but he was smiling. "You tried to help me. Thank you."

"You helped Tess. At a cost, and at a time when you had a lot of other things to worry about. And you're right; you do good work here. I've been here many times and gone home alone because of you."

"Uh." Jesse frowned. "Sorry?"

Andrew laughed; Jesse flinched automatically, but there was no sound from outside. "I told you, he can't hear me. Jesse, never apologise for what you do. I'd have brought them home, but I rejoice in every day of their lives. I rejoice in every day of yours, whatever name you're using." He thought for a moment. "Are you going to stay Jesse?"

"I think so. It's...easier, that way. I won't hide from it any more, but...Kevin's gone. Jesse lives here now."

"I'll remember."

"Something's going to happen, isn't it?" Jesse sat on the edge of the bed, eying him. "Something's coming, and you think if I hadn't faced up to this, if I haven't at least started working through the grief, it would have triggered me. You told Mark you couldn't come before, but I didn't stop praying. You knew where I was."

"We knew where you were," Andrew agreed.

"And you're not going to tell me?"

"It's...complicated."

"Uh huh. You'll be around?"

"If not me, someone else. We are always around."

"Rejoicing."

"Rejoicing." He smiled again.

"Andrew? If you're going to be around the hospital anyway, stop and say hi sometimes, will you?"

"I'd like that. I'll see you, Jesse."

The door opened and Mark put his head in. "You say something?"

"Just thinking out loud, Mark." Jesse smiled at him. "Listen, I'm going to crash. You go home. Don't hang around."

"Call me when you wake up?"

"Promise. First thing."

"All right. I'll talk to you then. Night, Jesse."

"Night, Mark." Jesse flopped backwards onto the bed, rolling to one side.

When he heard the door close behind Mark he closed his eyes, breathing for a moment. "Thank you," he murmured. "For letting me share his life. Thank you for helping me to start over here. Thank you for giving me a new family to be part of. Tell Nathan and Hannah I'm thinking of them, please. I'll always think of them."

More at peace than he had been in several years, he rolled over and fell asleep again almost immediately.

_And though they did hurt me, so bad,_

_In the fear and alarm_

_You did not desert me,_

_My brothers in arms..._


End file.
